The Peppercorn Project (15 page)

Matt was about to knock and enter when he remembered Isabelle’s door would be locked. He rang the bell, and within seconds footsteps scurried across the timber floorboards. The door opened, and Mietta stood there, beaming up at him. Warmth spread through him. She was the sweetest little girl.

‘Hi, Matt.’ Her head bobbed up and down, looking him over. ‘Why aren’t you wearing your policeman’s clothes?’

‘I don’t wear them every day.’ He put down the cardboard box he was carrying and squatted to Mietta’s eye level. ‘I didn’t wear them when I came over for dinner the other night, did I?’

‘Noooo,’ she drawled, ‘but I like it when you wear your policeman’s clothes.’

‘Perhaps I’ll wear them next time I come to visit,’ he said, standing up again. He was unsure whether to invite himself inside or not. There was no sign of Isabelle.

‘Do you sleep with your gun?’ Mietta whispered.

‘Noooo, I don’t,’ he mimicked, smiling when she giggled at him.

‘But what if the robbers come? Then you’ll need your gun.’

Matt chuckled. ‘We don’t have any robbers here in Stony Creek.’

‘Then if you’re not a robber, you can come in.’ She opened the door wider.

‘Why, thank you.’

He stepped inside the front door and closed it behind him, leaving his box forgotten on the front step.

‘You’re big,’ she said, staring up at him.

He smiled. ‘Yes, I guess I am.’

‘Like the Beast from
Beauty and the Beast
.’

He laughed heartily. ‘Yes, like the Beast. But I hope I’m not as mean as him.’

‘Oh, he wasn’t mean,’ she replied seriously. ‘He just didn’t know how to show his love to Belle.’

‘You’re right, sweetheart. The Beast loved Belle, but he didn’t know how to tell her.’

‘They lived happily ever after though, and that’s the main thing.’

‘That’s true,’ he agreed.

‘My daddy wasn’t as big as you. He was wiry.’

Wow, where had that come from? ‘Wiry?’ he asked. What an unusual word for a child.

‘That’s how Mummy describes him. Wiry.’ She repeated the word.

From behind the bathroom door, Isabelle called out. ‘Who was it, Mietta? Who was at the door?’

‘Is your mum in the bathroom?’ he whispered.

‘Yep! She’s taking a shower.’

Matt listened. Yes, indeed, Isabelle was taking a shower. He had a very pleasant mental image of her standing naked under the running water and he fought hard to control his thoughts, his emotions, his body.

‘Do you want to let Mummy know I’m here?’

Mietta bounded to the bathroom and burst in, swinging the door wide open. ‘Mummy! Matt’s here!’

The water shut off instantly. ‘Close the door, Mietta,’ Isabelle hissed, ‘and pass me my towel.’

There was no point pretending he wasn’t there. ‘Don’t rush, Issie. Enjoy your shower. I’ll go and put the kettle on and make myself at home.’

‘Okay,’ she yelled back.

Oh, how he wished he could see the look on her face. Seconds later, the shower started again. She probably still had soap or shampoo to rinse off. Again, the mental image was not one he needed right now, but he
was
a male after all. It was just as well Mietta was here.

‘Where’s Fletch?’ he asked her as she followed him out to the kitchen.

‘I think he’s still at school.’

Matt frowned. ‘He’s not in detention again, is he?’ He didn’t think Rachel was that strict she’d hold a detention on a Friday afternoon.

Mietta shook her head. ‘No, he’s playing basketball with some of his friends.’ She scrunched up her face. ‘I wanted to play, but they told me I was too little.’

Matt ruffled her hair. ‘You won’t always be little, I promise.’

He was filling the kettle when he was startled by a voice behind him.

‘What’s in the box at the front door?’

Matt turned to see Fletcher had appeared silently in the kitchen. ‘You were quiet. I didn’t hear you come in.’

He laughed. ‘I saw the police car parked out the front and I thought I’d see how good of a detective you were. I snuck in as quietly as I could.’

Matt slapped Fletcher on the back. ‘Might have to sign you up for the force when you’re old enough.’

‘That’d be cool.’

‘What box?’ Mietta asked.

‘I’ll go and grab it,’ Matt said. ‘It’s a special surprise.’

‘Ooh, I love surprises.’ Mietta jumped up and down.

Matt caught the look of unbridled curiosity as it crossed Fletcher’s face; it was clear he was as desperate to know as Mietta was. He returned with the cardboard box tucked under one arm.

‘Can I open it?’ Mietta asked impatiently.

‘No, you’ll have to wait for your mum.’

‘Wait for me for what?’

Matt smelled Isabelle first. A waft of fruity fragrance invaded his senses and then she was standing beside him, barefoot and tiny, her hair hanging in long wet tendrils down her back. She tipped her head to one side as she dried her hair with a towel. Instantaneous desire coursed through Matt’s body. It had been a long time since a woman had that kind of immediate effect on him.

‘What’s in the box?’ she asked, not bothering to greet him properly.

‘Aren’t you all a curious lot?’ Matt said. ‘Maybe it’s another leg of lamb. Nothing exciting.’

‘Then why can I hear scratching sounds?’

Isabelle’s brow crinkled and Matt had a moment of worry. Was he about to overstep the mark? If so, it was too late now. He picked up the box, placed it on the kitchen table, and opened the lid. From inside, he withdrew two tiny balls of ginger – one in each hand.

‘Kittens!’ Mietta squealed.

‘Shh,’ Matt said. ‘Don’t frighten them. Sit down and I’ll hand you one.’

Mietta plonked down on the floor in the middle of the kitchen and he gently placed one of the bundles of orange fluff in her hands. The kitten curled itself in a tight ball in her lap and began to purr. The look on Mietta’s face was one of pure adoration.

Matt held the other kitten close to his chest and looked at Fletcher. ‘And this little one is for you.’

He handed it to Fletcher and noticed the way the boy gingerly held it, drawing it close, up under his chin. He heard the kitten purr as it snuggled into the crook of his neck.

Fletcher looked up at Isabelle. ‘Can we keep them?’ He didn’t look confident, but his eyes held a spark of hope.

Matt hadn’t considered Isabelle might not say yes. Perhaps she was allergic to cats. He hadn’t thought twice about getting the kittens after hearing about her mouse problem from Alison.

‘Are these from Leah’s cat?’ Isabelle asked.

He nodded. ‘They’re still young, so they’re going to need a fair bit of love and attention.’

Mietta sat on the floor in silence, staring up at her mother, her blue eyes pleading her unspoken question. Matt suppressed a grin. If these were his kids, he’d have a hard time saying no to them.

‘Maybe …’ Isabelle drawled.

Fletcher sighed and his shoulders drooped. ‘Maybe always means no.’ He handed the kitten back to Matt. ‘Thanks anyway, Matt.’

Fletcher was about to leave the room when Isabelle’s voice stopped him. ‘I was
going
to say
maybe
we should let Matt help pick names for these two.’

Mietta squealed again and Fletcher grinned and hugged his mum. Matt handed the kitten back to him.

‘When I first saw them I thought they looked like little lions,’ Matt said. ‘What about you call them Simba and Nala?’

‘Corny, but I think it’s a good choice,’ Isabelle said. ‘
The Lion King
is one of my favourite movies.’

‘Ah yes, a great movie,’ Matt agreed. ‘Although
Beauty and the Beast
happens to be my favourite.’ He winked at Mietta and she grinned at him in delight as they shared a special secret.

Half an hour later, the kittens had lapped up all the milk the kids had poured into saucers. They had washed their tiny faces with their paws and finally fallen asleep again. Matt ended up staying for dinner. Isabelle apologised for the simple fare of tacos, but he wasn’t concerned with what he ate. He was just happy to be included in their family.

Neither Fletcher nor Mietta ate much, as they were in such a rush to get back to playing with the kittens. Eventually Matt pulled the cats off them so they could get ready for bed. He sat watching television with the balls of fluff curled together in his lap. A little while later Mietta came out from the bathroom in her pyjamas, her long hair wet and bedraggled. She handed Matt a comb and plonked herself at his feet. Not knowing what else to do, he ran the comb carefully through her knots.

‘You’re much better than Mum,’ Mietta announced when he had finished. ‘You should come over every night and comb my hair. Mummy is always in a rush. Daddy was like you. Slow and gentle.’

‘Bedtime, Mietta,’ Isabelle called out from the hallway. ‘Say goodnight to Matt.’

Had Issie overheard Mietta talking about her dad?

‘Goodnight, Matt. Thanks for giving me Nala. I love her.’ Mietta reached up on tiptoes and kissed Matt’s cheek. His heart burst.

Ten minutes later Isabelle collapsed on the couch beside him. She curled her legs underneath her, hugged a cushion to her chest and closed her eyes. His arm lay across the back of the couch, and everything within him wanted to slide it down and across her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry about the kittens, Issie. I should have asked you first,’ Matt said.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘Why?’

‘I never stopped to think you might not want pets. I know they’re a big responsibility.’

‘But if you’d asked me first, then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.’

‘Does that mean you like surprises?’

‘Hmm, it depends.’

They were both silent, and for a while the only sound was the television. Matt had no idea what they were watching, he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Isabelle. He watched her face intently as she began to relax. She had a few tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks were flushed a natural pink tinge that matched her lips. He wanted to lean over and kiss them. She was an incredibly sexy woman, and yet so sweet and innocent. If Isabelle Cassidy had any clue the power she could have over any man, she didn’t wield it.

Ever since his divorce Matt didn’t think he had a marrying bone left in his body. Now, looking at Isabelle, he realised his heart was thudding along to a different beat. She had caused a massive shift inside him. Day and night, he had trouble getting her out of his mind. There was something about her. He suppressed the impulse to dump the kittens on the floor, and pull her into his lap and kiss her.

‘I have news,’ she announced, opening her eyes and sitting up, breaking his train of thought.

‘What’s that?’

‘I got a job today!’

‘Really?’ Now it was his turn to be surprised. ‘Doing what?’

‘Nursing.’

He shifted positions so he faced her. ‘I never knew you were a nurse.’ There was so much about her he still didn’t know.

Isabelle nodded. ‘I haven’t worked for a long time, but Alison convinced me I’ll be fine. She wants me to job share at the clinic, and I said yes.’

‘Good for you. When do you start?’

‘Monday. It’s only two days a week to begin with.’

‘That’s brilliant news. I’m thrilled for you.’

He genuinely was. It was good news for her, and good news for the town. Maybe Matt would be eating his words. At the rate Isabelle and the other families were fitting in, it looked like the Peppercorn Project would be a success, not the disaster he’d feared.

Something else occurred to him. If Isabelle had a permanent job, it might mean she would stay in town permanently at the end of the lease.

If he was a praying man, that would be his prayer.

Monday began differently from every other day since Isabelle had arrived in Stony Creek. Rather than waiting to get out of bed when she heard Mietta wake, the alarm on her phone jolted her from sleep. She showered and dressed quickly, trying to assuage her nerves. Isabelle was making the school lunches when Mietta appeared, wiping sleep from her eyes as she stumbled into the kitchen.

‘Good morning, sunshine.’

‘Is that what you’re wearing to work?’ Mietta asked, ignoring Isabelle’s cheery greeting.

Isabelle looked down at her navy pants and plain white polo top. ‘Yes. Do you have a problem with it, missy?’ she said, kissing Mietta on the top of her tousled head.

‘I thought you’d be wearing those clothes they wear on TV.’

‘You mean scrubs?’

‘I don’t know what they’re called. They’re what the doctors and nurses wear in the hospital shows. I like the pink ones.’

Isabelle racked her brain for what medical-based television show Mietta could have possibly seen that was appropriate for her age. She came up blank.

‘Well, this is what I’m wearing. It’s what I used to wear when I worked at the hospital in Geelong.’

‘But you’re not working at the hospital.’ Mietta tilted her head to the side, looking confused.

‘No, I’m not. I’m working at the doctor’s surgery.’

‘Does that mean you’re going to be helping the doctor?’

‘Something like that. Now come on, honey, go and get dressed for school.’

After Mietta had left the room, Isabelle inhaled deeply and willed her body and her mind into gear.
I can do this,
she told herself.

*

An hour later Isabelle had dropped Mietta at the school gate and walked the short distance to the clinic. Alison had called to let her know that her elderly mum had fallen and she’d gone to stay with her in Adelaide for a few days. She’d been worried she wouldn’t be around to show Isabelle the ropes, but Isabelle had assured her she’d be fine – as much for own her sake as Alison’s. Now she was having doubts. As she pushed open the door, a ball of tension formed in her throat. Was she really going to be able to do this? Self-talk only went so far. The encouraging text message from Matt was lovely, but was it enough to stop her nerves from trying to pick her up and carry her back home?

Not expecting to see anyone in the waiting room, Isabelle’s heart somersaulted when the young man behind the front reception desk smiled at her as she walked in. Isabelle did a double take. Her first impression was how good looking he was.

Her second was how much he looked like Dan.

Who was he, and why had her insides turned instantly to mush?

Dark brown eyes met hers. She noticed the way his eyes flicked over her body.

Moistening her lips, she dragged in a lungful of air. ‘I’m Isabelle Cassidy. I’m starting here today as the new part-time nurse.’ She was glad her voice sounded normal.

He leaned forward to shake her hand and his grip was strong, his hands smooth. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up neatly to reveal tanned arms. ‘I’m Dr Thompson.’

Isabelle frowned. He didn’t seem much older than her. Why had she thought Dr Thompson was close to retirement age? Had she misunderstood Alison?

‘You were expecting someone older, weren’t you?’ he asked with a grin, apparently reading her mind.

Isabelle nodded. ‘I was.’ She smiled nervously.

‘I’m Dr Thompson
junior
,’ he explained. ‘My dad Adrian is the
other
Dr Thompson. I’m filling in for him for the next six months.’

‘Oh,’ Isabelle exclaimed. ‘I had no idea there were two of you. It’s nice to meet you then, Dr Thompson.’

‘Call me Hugo. Save the “Dr Thompson” bit for my dad. What would you like me to call you? Issie? Belle?’

‘Issie is fine.’

‘Issie it is then.’

‘How old
are
you?’

‘Younger than I look obviously.’ He grinned at her again, seeing her discomfort. ‘I just turned thirty.’

‘Oh, I thought you were younger than that.’

‘So you’re saying I have a baby face?’ One dimple formed in his left cheek as he smiled crookedly at her. ‘Or perhaps you prefer your men with a beard? I might need to grow one, do you think?’ He ran his hands over his smoothly shaven face. No wedding ring.

Isabelle had no idea how to reply. Her face was on fire. She readjusted her handbag on her shoulder and avoided Hugo’s eyes. This was
not
the way she’d intended making a good first impression on her boss.

Hugo flicked his hair back, this time accompanied by a swipe of his fingers through his long fringe, brushing it back across the top of his head. Was it a nervous thing, or did he think it made him look sexy?

‘Come on in, anyway. I’ll show you where to put your stuff. It’s a shame Alison wasn’t able to be here to help you get settled in, but she’s had some family emergency.’

Isabelle nodded. ‘Yes, she called Saturday night to explain.’

She followed him behind the desk to the small treatment room and office at the back of the clinic. Alison had made meticulous notes about everything, and left them in a folder on the desk for Isabelle.

‘Yoo hoo,’ a woman’s voice called out. ‘Anyone here?’

‘That will be my first patient of the day,’ Hugo said. ‘Sounds like Pat Wallace.’ He grimaced and lowered his voice slightly. ‘Have you met her yet?’

Isabelle nodded, remembering the woman at the caravan park, and Leah’s warning that she was known for her big mouth. ‘I have.’

‘Biggest busybody in town,’ Hugo said, echoing Leah’s sentiments about the woman. ‘Worse than old Dot Wettenhall. If you want my advice, keep her on your good side too.’ He grinned again, walking to the door. ‘And don’t give either of them cause for gossip or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’

Isabelle allowed herself to relax. If Hugo was this easygoing, the job wouldn’t be as daunting as she’d imagined.

Turning back to face her, Hugo added, ‘And another thing. They’re the biggest matchmakers you’ll ever find. All it takes is one sniff of romance and they run wild with it. One kiss and they’ll have you married off and bearing ten kids the next day.’

Isabelle laughed this time. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Good morning, Mrs Wallace,’ he called out, his voice full of sarcasm. As he led her to his room, he winked at Isabelle.

She busied herself reading Alison’s notes and wondering what she should do next. Patients came and went and Hugo acted as both doctor and receptionist. An hour later Isabelle had worked out how to log onto the computer and find the list of patients who had appointments that day. She familiarised herself with where everything was kept in the treatment room, and at eleven o’clock made herself a cup of tea. She sat at her desk wondering what to do next when Hugo waltzed in. She stood instantly, feeling guilty for stopping for a cuppa. She jostled her mug with her elbow and hot tea sloshed across the desk.
Damn!
She busily mopped up the mess.

‘Relax, Belle.’

Isabelle stiffened. ‘I prefer Issie,’ she said. ‘Not Belle.’

Hugo shrugged. ‘Okay. Anyway, this isn’t a busy clinic. If you don’t have any patients, that’s fine. Some days you might end up sitting here reading a book.’

‘Really? Is that okay with you?’

‘As long as you’re a competent nurse and help out when I need it, I don’t mind what you do in the down time.’

Isabelle was surprised. It was different from working on the busy ward at the University Hospital in Geelong, where she had held her one and only position after graduating.

‘I’ll give you standing orders for some things,’ Hugo went on. ‘If there’s an emergency and I’m not in town, send the patient to Booleroo, provided they’re not too sick. In a real emergency, call the Flying Doctors.’

She shivered involuntarily. ‘I hope I won’t see too many emergencies.’

Hugo tilted his head and looked at her. ‘Is this your first job as a practice nurse?’

She nodded. ‘Yes it is, and to be honest, I kind of got talked into it by Alison. I haven’t been nursing long and I’ve only worked on a medical ward. I don’t have much experience. Not like Alison.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ he assured her. ‘And you can call me
any
time. I’ll give you my number. I’m happy to help,’ he continued. ‘You only need to ask.’

He winked, and a strange feeling landed in her stomach. Isabelle felt uneasy, but dismissed her concerns. Hugo was just one of those overly friendly kind of guys.

She nodded. ‘Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Anyway, I came out to let you know the next patient is old Tom Morrison. He’ll be coming in to get one of his legs checked. He has these chronic ulcers – uncontrolled Type 2 diabetes. You know the story. He’s in denial about the diabetes and hasn’t bothered to change his diet or keep track of his sugars. When he comes in, bring him straight through here and take the dressing down and clean it up. I’ll come and check him out once you’re done and we can send him on his way.’

‘Okay,’ Isabelle said. It sounded easy enough.